Tweedledum and Tweedledee
by E.M Travers
Summary: Just a little drama drabble that's been floating around in my head. Based on Cp Coulter's Dalton-verse.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I don't own Glee, or Cp Coulter's OC's. This is just a drabble one-shot that's been floating in my head for quite some time. I put every fiber of my being into straying from my usual humor-genre and going more into the drama of it all.

Ethan sighed, glancing up wearily at Blaine. Blaine was sitting on the couch, one leg tucked underneath him as he offered Ethan the soda he'd just grabbed from the fridge. Ethan's eyes drifted to the soda can and back to Blaine's face. "No thanks." Ethan finally said. "What? Didn't you just say you were thirsty?" Blaine asked, his heavy eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I'm thirsty, just not for that." Ethan explained, leaning back so he was resting on his elbows. "What's wrong with it?" Blaine questioned, worried about the mood of his usually-energetic friend. "Evan drinks Diet Coke. I drink Sprite. I'm…not Evan." Ethan said, his voice quiet, contemplative and child-like all at the same time. Ethan looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, noticing Kurt giving him a reassuring smile. "He'll be home soon, don't worry." Kurt sighed. The single Tweedle nodded, standing up. "Hey. You've got your Physics final early tomorrow. You should sleep." Blaine said, concern in his tone. "No!" Ethan bit out, his tone sounding more forceful than he meant. "Sorry…no thanks. I'll wait for Evan." Ethan said, softening his tone the most he could at the moment. The group nodded. They had all gathered at the Brightmans' for a typical Friday hang out, but Ethan was definitely making the absence of his twin evident. And quite frankly, it was making the mood quiet and melancholy, something the Windsors just weren't used to, especially at the Brightmans' household. Ethan had just begun to climb the stairs when a sharp, crippling pain shot straight through his chest, most of the pain around his heart, knocking the wind straight out of him and making him fall backwards.

The other Windsors heard Ethan's yelp of pain as well as the loud bang from when he hit the hardwood floor on his back and immediately scrambled from where they were seated watching TV and to the staircase. "Ethan!" Kurt cried, kneeling besides the blond boy. As soon as he felt the pain subside and the spots stopped swimming in and out of his vision, Ethan shot up from where he was laying. That jolt of pain didn't have him worried about his own well being. That startling pain told him somewhere in his mind that something was seriously wrong, and it had to do with his twin. His best friend. Ethan was gasping for air, breathing sporadically. "Evan! Someone needs to call Evan! Right now! Something's wrong!" Ethan choked out, nearly in hysterics already. Instantly everyone whipped out their phones and dialed Evan Brightman's number. When he didn't pick up any of the calls, Ethan began to dry-sob, fighting his way to his feet, even though the rest of the Windsors tried to calm him down, lest he hurt himself again. "I have to go find him! Something's wrong!" Ethan said, choking on his own words as making a mad dash to the front door and ripping it open. The other Windsors followed him, Dwight pulling the keys to his Impala from his pocket and racing alongside Ethan.

As it turns out, Evan Brightman had been driving on his way home in the freezing Ohio rain when he'd collided head on with a driver who ran a red light. As far as the Windsor knew, he was currently in the hospital in serious condition.

That was the situation when the Windsors arrived at the hospital. Ethan scrambled from the car before Blaine had even parked it and ran inside. Kurt got out of the car next, trailing Ethan with a worried expression on his face. It wasn't just Evan he was worried about. It was also Ethan. Those two were one organism in two minds, and it wasn't clear how much further Ethan would go in his emotional breakdown. "I need to see my brother! Evan Brightman." Ethan said to the woman at the desk with as much calm in his emotional-cracked voice as he could muster when talking to a total stranger. Before the nurse could answer, the doors to the E.R burst open and a stretcher shot past, headed for another hallway. A flash of gold hair mixed with blood red. Ethan lunged at it, but someone had him around the waist, holding him back. Charlie. Of course. Ethan, being about a bit taller and adrenaline-fueled, fought like his life depended on it. "THAT'S MY BROTHER! LET ME GO! THAT'S MY BROTHER! THIS IS ALL MY FAULT! MINE! LET GO OF ME!" Ethan finally screamed, his voice hoarse and fighting against the feigning hold the House prefect had on him. Just before Ethan was sure Charlie was about to let go and he'd be able to rush to his brother, Blaine, Wes and Dwight were at his side, their combined efforts holding Ethan still while he screamed and fought until his muscles were weak. He managed to break free twice, punching Blaine and Dwight in his panic-blinded state. It wasn't long after that until medical people finally came around to sedate the blond Windsor with the strongest stuff they had. This was a full on mental breakdown. The sedation took longer than any medic standing by had ever witnessed, but the Windsors knew why. Ethan was determined not to slip into the dark when every fiber of his being knew that his twin brother was still in the light.

Ethan awoke with a start, lying in a hospital bed. His whole body felt heavy. Hell, his thoughts even felt heavy. He turned on his side and almost started crying all over again. In the hospital bed on the other side of the room lay his brother. Evan had a black eye and a long gash mark tracing over the bridge of his nose. The left part of his face was partially bandaged and somehow, Ethan knew he was conscious. Just sleeping. Something left a deep long gash on Ethan's inside's that day. A mark that can only be caused by undoubtedly, unadulterated guilt. That should be him lying there, having been to the brink of death and back. Although he wouldn't have wished the mental breakdown on his worst enemy. Ethan jumped from his bed, running over to Evan's bed, kneeling besides it and cupping his brother's face in such a soft tender way only a twin knew how. "Ev? Evan I'm s-so sorry. This is all my f-fault." Ethan said, beginning to cry again. Slowly, Evan's clear blue eyes opened, immediately gaining back the usual light in them the second he saw his twin's face. "Ethan?" Evan said, his voice hoarse. Ethan looked up, going back into hysterics when he saw his brother was awake. Evan reached a bandaged hand up, gently shooing one of Ethan's hands off his face. "Don't blame yourself." Evan said with a weak smile. "But it's all my fault! If I'd just served that damn detention-" "You'd be lying here instead of me, I suppose." Evan finished as Ethan nodded. "I offered to go in place of you for that detention. You didn't ask me. I volunteered. It's my own fault." Evan said as fresh tears appeared on his brother's face. "But I should be-" "No, you shouldn't. Because the outcome would've been much worse. I know we're the same when it comes to mostly everything…but you're stronger than I am. Emotionally, I mean." Evan sighed. "If it was you lying here, I wouldn't have been able to take it. I would've tried to take my own life somehow, I can imagine." Evan said, his tone contemplative, purely thoughtful. "Don't say that, Ev. You honest to goodness scared the hell out of me tonight." Ethan said, his voice cracking. Evan made a little movement that constituted a shrug in his wounded state. "Next time tragedy strikes, it's my turn to worry about you." Evan smiled to match his brother's. "Not happening, little brother." Ethan smirked, reaching up to fix a strand of Evan's blond hair that was stuck in his bandages.

"_Hey, just because you beat me to the birth canal by ten minutes and thirty four and a half seconds…"_

"_Still makes me the big brother." _

"_Nuh-uh, Tweedledum."_

"_You better believe it, Tweedledee."_


	2. Author's Note

AN: Wow. Wave of reviews. Thanks everyone! Like I noted in my other story, yeah, I have an issue when it comes to spacing and paragraphs. It's important and all but I don't stress over it because 98 % of my writing is essentially drabbles and stuff I just need to bang out on digital paper otherwise I don't get sleep. I'm basically a writing bum, meaning I just write out stuff and I do a quick spell/grammar check before sending it out into the world. I apologize for the confusion my lazy spacing and paragraphing may produce. I also rarely put deep, deep thought into what my plots are. I do plan it out, I do….it's more like my reviewers point something out and I'm like "Ooh…I completely didn't see that! :S " It's atrocious, I know. Anyways, thanks a bunch for the reviews and for reading this story.


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